


A Series of Catastrophic Incidents

by katjedi



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Canon Compliant, Cat Puns, Gen, Humor, Original Character(s), listen i just wanted to write silly cracktastic party shenanigans okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-28
Updated: 2017-09-28
Packaged: 2019-01-06 07:48:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,817
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12206922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katjedi/pseuds/katjedi
Summary: He shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly. Incidents like these—they were a norm and he should really be used to them by now. Still, nothing quite prepared him for this; he was more of a dog person, after all.“But whycats, though?” Rose finally blurted out, incredulous. Hell, Dezel wanted to know too—who would come up with such a sick joke anyway?In which the party encounters a witch and the seraphim are turned into cats.





	A Series of Catastrophic Incidents

**Author's Note:**

> This started out as a joke fic and an excuse to write more cute/silly party shenanigans, but kind of spiralled out of hand. So I guess it’s now the equivalent of a side-quest… oops? I may or may not have mixed up some events in the game timeline very slightly for creative liberties, but it’s nothing serious. Takes place in the time after the party’s arrival in Lastonbell and before the incident with Forton in Pendrago.

* * *

**~.*.~**  
  
**i.**

He shouldn’t have been surprised, honestly. Incidents like these—they were a norm and he should really be used to them by now. Being part of the Shepherd’s posse brought both irritability and absurdity. He was aware of this even before Rose had decided to take on the role of Squire; before she had risked her own life to save the brat from certain death after his brush with the Lord of Calamity in Glaivend Basin.

Still, nothing quite prepared him for this; he was more of a dog person, after all.

“But why _cats_ , though?” Rose finally blurted out, incredulous. Hell, Dezel wanted to know too—who would come up with such a sick joke anyway?

“ _I’m_ **not** _a cat!_ ”

The small silver creature standing in the grass was scowling up at them with narrowed, violet eyes. His mouth was open, as if he were attempting to speak. But the only sound he managed was a very indignant and kittenish mewl. 

“ _W-What?_ ” The silver kitten crinkled his nose, tail waving back and forth in confusion. He glanced over his shoulder, gazing at a second cat—a female with a silky white coat and a long, red-striped tail. “ _Why can’t I… Lailah, what’s going on?_ ”

“Huh,” Sorey said from where he was crouched low to the ground. There was a contemplative look about him as he swept his gaze from the silver kitten to the white cat. Skulking beside his right knee was a smaller, calico-patched kitten with sky-blue eyes and a foul temper, her short tail fluffed up.  And draped casually over the Shepherd’s shoulder was yet _another_ cat—a sleek, muscular tom, grey-striped and wearing a languid amber stare. Sorey watched the cats surrounding him for a bit longer, before he reached out tentatively to let the silver kitten sniff his fingers.

“Well, at least he didn’t turn you all into frogs,” he added unhelpfully. “Ow!” He yelped when the silver kitten nipped a finger.

“ _This isn’t funny, Sorey!_ ” the kitten said, ears twitching irritably.

Before Sorey could reply, the grey tom leapt down from his perch to the grass below, splaying his claws as he stretched his long limbs out easily.

“ _Better a cat than a frog, eh, Mikster? Though I suppose it might have been easier if we_ had _been turned into frogs. A kiss from one with the purest of hearts should do the trick._ ” The grey tom glanced up at Rose, a mischievous gleam in his eyes now. “ _No harm trying it out with cats too, right? How about it, Missy? Sheps here would actually be the obvious choice but since Lailah probably won’t risk sullying his purity, I’m sure we also can make do with a kiss from a fine lady such as yourself._ _Besides, the kid_ _has probably reserved his kiss for that special someone.”_

“Um, actually—” Sorey began hesitantly at the same time the calico kitten growled softly in her throat. Bunching up her paws beneath her, she sprang forward and aimed a swift paw-jab to the grey tom’s face that had him yowling in surprise and backing away.

“ _As lewd as ever even in this form,_ ” the calico hissed as she swished her bottle-brush tail in contempt. “ _Just because you’re a fuzz ball now doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be gross, Grossveid._ ”

Rose rubbed at her nape, still confused, as she stared at the gathering of cats. “How are these cats even _talking_ to us? It’s like I’m hearing their voices in my head and that’s _creepy_ , just like how... Whoa, hold on a sec...” She stiffened, eyes widening as she finally caught on. “Is this kitten _Edna_?” She flicked her gaze back at the grey tom, who beamed and twitched his whiskers proudly up at her. “And Zaveid?!”

Dezel was already internally groaning at Rose’s slow uptake. But Sorey, ever the sunshine of their dysfunctional little band, only let out a chuckle.

“So you can hear them too, huh? And this one here is Mikleo!” He reached for the silver kitten who was still puffed up indignantly, holding up his now fluffy best friend for Rose to take a better look. “Doesn’t he look like the cutest bundle of fur now?”  
  
“ _Ugh, Sorey!_ ” Mikleo the kitten groaned, struggling to bat Sorey over the nose with a paw.  
  
This time, it was Rose’s turn to laugh. “More like an overpriced fur stole, really.”  
  
“ _R-Rose!_ ”  
  
Before the two could continue with their good-natured teasing, the white cat with the red tail purred, amused. She bounded up to balance herself easily on Sorey’s right shoulder, looking over at Rose and Dezel with bright eyes.

“And I take it this one here must be Lailah then,” Rose said.

“ _That is correct_ ,” the Prime Lord (Prime... Cat?) nodded. “ _It seems that what we’ve heard from the villagers aren’t mere rumours, after all. With their apparent skill in transmutation artes, perhaps this person really_ is _a witch._ ”  
  
“Great,” Dezel muttered under his breath. “This just means more work cut out for us.”

 

* * *

**~.*.~**  
  
**ii.**

  
The trouble with old geezers—with old _people_ in general, Rose thought somewhat unkindly—was how they never minded their own business. Things would’ve been simpler if he had ignored them, had left them to their own devices. But no, the old man just _had_ stick his nose in, throwing a wrench into their plans.

(To be fair, she’d considered that perhaps he might’ve been yet another unwilling victim coerced into it. But she had also spent _weeks_ tracking and chasing down their target, _dammit_. So nope, he didn’t get a free pass, unwilling victim or not!)  
  
In any case, even if the man wasn’t completely to blame, Rose felt at times the odds just weren’t in their favour. After all, Sorey—and now Rose, by association—tended to have the odd luck of attracting unwanted attention, from both meddlesome and honest humans alike.

She groaned, placing a hand at her hip while the other pinched the space between her eyes. It had to be the darn Shepherd’s cloak— _of course_ Sorey was going to stick out like a sore thumb everywhere, clad in such conspicuous designs. That and probably that ridiculously boyish but radiant smile, over-bright like the sun. Sorey’s earnestness didn’t always impress unctuous politicians and battle-hardy soldiers like it usually did with civilians. But they’d always assumed the Shepherd to be an ingenuous young man at first, only to realise belatedly how discerning he could actually be.

Unfortunately in this case, the old geezer wasn’t too quick on the pickup. Sorey wasn’t quite ready to dismiss the old man’s pleas of _There you are, I’ve searched all over for you!_ , but he’d realised something didn’t quite add up when he exchanged a brief glance with her.

“Oh,” Sorey said, looking back over at the old man, who was now bowing fervently before them. “Do you both know each other?”

Rose didn’t miss the flicker of uncertainty in those grey eyes, or the way the old man fiddled nervously with the hem of his tunic. She sighed, before meeting Sorey’s gaze once more with the tiniest of smirks.

“A-ah, yes! We do!” the old man stuttered, a little too quickly and too loudly. “Yes, of course we know each other—why would you think otherwise?! I-I mean, he’s my grandson, who’s now the blacksmith’s apprentice! We had a… fight and he went missing and…” He faltered, staring blankly first at Sorey, and then at Rose. As though he’d abruptly lost his train of thought.

_Or as though he’d forgotten the rest of his scripted lines._

Rose stifled back a chuckle. She flicked her gaze back at the boy she and Sorey had chased through the streets earlier, down to the corner of this alley. The blacksmith’s apprentice, huh? Now she was _sure_ the old man was lying. She was no stranger to Coram and his forge; the blacksmith traded regularly with the Sparrowfeathers for metal and coal. And being the loquacious sort, he never had any qualms filling her in with the latest village gossip and updates in his life. So she would have heard if Coram had gotten an apprentice.  And even she hadn’t, the boy’s hands were too smooth, his nails too polished for one who supposedly laboured for hours with fire and metalwork.

“An apprentice?” she said, eyebrows raised in feign surprise. She made no attempt to move from her spot however, keeping the boy cornered against the brick wall. “Never heard of Coram taking in someone new. But let’s just assume you’re telling us the truth and that you’re able to describe ol’ Smithy and his forge. If you can do that, then I might just buy it and let you go.”

There was a tensed silence and—  
_  
_ Rose caught a flash of movement from the corner of her eyes. The old man lunged clumsily forward, hands flailing out in an attempt to grab her, but Rose was already sidestepping away nimbly—only to realise too late that the old man hadn’t been trying to pin her down, and was instead attempting to divert her attention.

_Oh, crap, the kid!_

She turned and saw Sorey rushing to her side, sword raised.

“Rose, Sorey—get back!” was the last thing she heard before she felt a gush of wind surrounding them. There was a loud rumbling noise and they were both knocked off their feet by a fierce blast of magic.

Rose skidded against the ground, coughing as dirt and dust settled around them. Blinking, she saw Dezel standing tall before her, his arms outstretched to keep the shield he’d raised with his artes intact.

“You all right?” he snapped.  
  
“Alive and kicking,” she said, wincing when she felt a twinge from a bruise on her arm. “Where’s Sorey?”

“I’m okay,” Sorey managed, after a fit of coughing. He was struggling back up to his feet, using his sword as a brace. Rose blinked again, rubbing the last of the dust out from her eyes with her hand. She swept her gaze around, before letting out a choice curse.

“Can't believe they got away so easily. Damn it!”

“That’s not the only problem we have either,” Dezel growled stiffly, ten times more grim-faced than he normally was. Which was really saying something. Just as she was about to ask what he’d meant, she felt something brush past her shins. She jumped, one hand already curled around the hilt of her dagger, only to pause in confusion when she saw a smallish calico-patched bundle dashing away from her.

“What the heck?” she gaped, as the creature ( _a cat?_ ) hid itself behind Sorey’s ankles and scowled back at her with bright blue eyes. It was then Rose noticed three more cats clustered around Sorey.

When she’d finally cottoned on to what exactly had happened—the boy who was the rumoured “witch” causing trouble all around the village, had struck out them with a cloud of arte, effectively transforming all the seraphim (save Dezel) into cats—all Rose could do was to stare blankly at her companions.

An awkward pause, and then—

“You’ve got to be kitten me, right?” was all she could manage, confounded as she were. To which Dezel only visibly winced, while somewhere from within her mind, Rose heard Lailah chuckling gleefully, _“Aw, Rose, you’re getting to be a-meow-zing at these!”_

 

* * *

**~.*.~**  
  
**iii.**

“And so that’s how it went!” Rose said, almost too cheerfully, hands placed firmly on either side of her hips.

“Oh, I-I see…” Alisha said hesitantly. Her brows were furrowed in concentration, as she tried to make sense of what had just been shared with her. Mikleo couldn’t really blame the Princess Knight for any doubt she might harbour at their story. After all, it wasn’t every day that humans—let alone _human-like_ seraphim—were transformed into talking animals. _  
  
_ Mikleo waved his bushy tail, his poise graceful as he balanced himself on Sorey’s left shoulder. He met Alisha’s gaze with sombre eyes _. “I know it sounds really out of it, especially when coming from Rose—”_  
  
“Hey!” Rose scowled.

_“—but that’s honestly how we ended up as cats,”_ Mikleo finished.  
  
Alisha only continued to stare wordlessly at him, still frowning slightly. Before Mikleo could speak again, she abruptly reached forward with both hands and lifted him away from Sorey’s shoulder.  
  
“ _H-Huh? Alisha?!”_ Mikleo yowled, surprised.

“Oh, but aren’t you just the _sweetest_ looking kitten!” Alisha cooed, pulling Mikleo closer into a crushing embrace. “Your coat has such a brilliant shine to it. And your tail! It’s the fluffiest tail I’ve seen, it’s oh so adorable!” She stroked her hand over Mikleo’s soft pelt, marvelling at the silvery sheen.

“Well, I totally did not see that coming,” Rose said, as she nudged Lailah (who was curled around her shoulder) gently. “I guess Princess Alisha isn’t quite able to hear you guys speak, now that you’re stuck as cats?”

“ _Well, it probably isn’t simply because we’ve been transformed into cats per se,”_ Lailah said. _“But just as humans with low resonance cannot perceive or speak with seraphim, it seems our voices in cat-form cannot reach them either. For some reason, they are only able to perceive us visually in our altered-forms, hence why to them, we’re perhaps no different than your average alley cat...”_

_“I’m_ not _an alley cat—mmr-ow-ow!”_ Mikleo protested heatedly, before dissolving into kittenish squeaks when Alisha delightfully embraced him once more.

“And due to their lower resonance, it’ll only sound like a normal cat meowing when you try speaking to them—is that it?” Sorey asked, his eyes bright with understanding now.

Lailah nodded. _“More or less, yes.”_

At Sorey’s words, Alisha paused in her fervent cuddling of cute furry things. “Cats trying to speak? What do you mean…?” She echoed, looking over the cats around them. “Are you saying these cats are actually cat seraphim—oh! Is that cat _Lady_ _Lailah?”_ Her eyes widened and her face flushed a bright pink, confusion quickly turning into mortification as she held up the silver kitten before her again for a better look. “And is this kitten Seraph Mikleo?! Oh, I-I’m so, so sorry for my unforgivably rude behaviour!”

Sorey could only offer a weak laugh by way of explanation. “Guess the cat’s out of the bag then. Um.”

Dezel grimaced, his expression twisted into equal parts exasperation and resignation as he folded his arms. “Dammit, not _you_ too.”

(Mikleo could’ve sworn though, that Lailah was bursting with motherly pride for her Shepherd as she said, _“Oooh, it wasn’t as punstatic but good try, Sorey—six points for effort!”_ )

 

* * *

**~.*.~**  
  
**iv.**

“We appreciate the help, but you don’t have to escort us all the way, Sergei,” Sorey said, offering an apologetic smile to the burly knight walking beside him. “I don’t wish to add to your troubles when you already have so many responsibilities to see to.”

The Captain of the Platinum Knights only shook his head in a dignified manner. “Oh, but I must insist, Shepherd Sorey. After all, I cannot ignore these disturbances that have been repeatedly brought to our attention—it is my duty to see to the source of the people’s worries. Caladan is located in a very rural area bordering the forest and news beyond that of daily trade and domestic grievances from the village seldom reaches the Capital. So it’s a cause for concern when we hear talk of suspicious behaviour outside of the norm, especially when there’s been talk of serial murders in Lastonbell as well.”  
  
Rose grinned, beaming at Sergei. “Spoken like a true knight of the people! I can already see you and Princess Alisha getting along well enough.” She nodded at Sorey. “And it might actually do us good to have additional help. This one’s been a pretty slippery case, being a witch and all.”

“A witch?” A contemplative crossed the Captain’s face. He cast a furtive glance over his shoulder and at the herd of cats trailing after them. “I caught brief mentions of it from the aides of a diplomatic party passing through the village this morning, but I had not given it much thought then, thinking it was only fantastical rumours. So, if I understand it right—the, ah, feline cortège that’s accompanying you now? Are they actually your seraphim, Milady Rose?”

“ _Feline cortège?_ ” Zaveid snorted, flicking his tail. “ _Ol’ Cap here sure is the very model of an upstanding citizen, isn’t he? Guess it’s a good coincidence we ran into him when we did_.”

“ _Like you’re one to talk_ ,” Edna huffed. “ _What brings_ you _here? A lone seraph wandering in a place teeming with foul humans? Seems too much of a coincidence that you’d happen to be in the same run-of-the-mill village as we did_.” _  
  
“You think I had _ planned _to get turned into a cat with the rest of you? I may be many things but I ain’t that crazy!”_ Zaveid could hardly stifle back a guffaw, lips curved into an ingratiating smirk. _“A man has his reasons, all right? Maybe I’d just wanted to stretch my legs a little. Or maybe I just needed some fresh air and fresh sights, so to speak.”_

_“Do you ever give a straight answer?”_ Mikleo sighed, his fur already prickling with irritation. It was hard not to feel vexed, especially when Zaveid seemed all too keen on being as vexing as possible. _“Or do you just enjoy speaking in riddles?”_

And true to his needling nature, Zaveid only chuckled, his whiskers twitched in utmost amusement. _“What’s the matter, Mik-boy? I thought kits like you adored riddles._ ”

Mikleo bristled and would have retorted back with something rude, but Dezel abruptly moved then. The wind seraph darted past the bickering pair, growling sharply, “Cut the chatter! We’ve got company!”

There was sudden shift in the atmosphere around them; Mikleo felt his whiskers tingling with danger.

Rose was already falling into a defensive stance beside Sorey, daggers drawn and ready. Sergei swept a narrowed gaze around them, sizing up the surly-looking bandits—all eight of them—who had silently appeared from all sides of the deserted path to surround them in a tight circle.

“What is the meaning of this?” the knight demanded. “As Captain of the Platinum Knights, I command you to put away your weapons now.”

The bandits didn’t flinched, but only raised their axes higher as they stepped closer, their eyes wide and glazed as if mesmerized.

“We have no quarrel with you, _Captain_ ,” said the leader, his weathered face a network of jagged scars. “But the lad and the girlie? Cursed by the gods, they are. _He_ said they would come and stir up trouble. Said _we_ needed to stop them, foretold as it were by the gods.”

“ _This isn’t good. There are traces of an arte imprinted upon these men. Someone has woven illusions or tampered with their minds._ ” Sorey could hear Lailah’s worry as she spoke. “ _Already I can sense a strong domain coming from somewhere ahead and I’m almost certain it’s the witch. We need to act quickly._ ”

“You’re saying that their minds have been somewhat possessed and they were sent here to stall us?” Rose clicked her tongue in annoyance. “Great, just what we needed. First talking seraphic cats and now zombie bandits!” She turned towards one of the bandits—a youngish lout with a patch over one eye—who had crept up from her right flank. She frowned, holding up a dagger so that the serrated blade would be angled right across his face if she’d chosen to strike him then. An effective warning. “Back off, kid, if you still want to be able to see out of that remaining eye. Do you seriously think you guys are a match for a captain of the military _and_ the Shepherd’s posse?”

The one-eyed youth curled his lip into a snarl, revealing rows of crooked teeth. “You don’t scare us with your fancy words and titles. All we see here is an old fogey, a wench who runs her mouth, and a boy playing dressed-up hero!”

“We don’t wish to hurt you,” Sorey said, even as he kept his guard up. “So, please. Stand down and let us through or we will fight you.”

The man with the scarred face let out a raspy laugh, before he spat at the ground inches away from Sorey and countered derisively, “Says you and what army, laddie?”

“He does not need an army for one as disrespectful as you!” Sergei cut in, heatedly drawing his sword now. “Allow me to fight alongside you, Shepherd Sorey! With your beloved wife and your seraph team!”

“Wife??” echoed the one-eyed youth, flicking his gaze incredulously from Rose to Sorey. “You mean you’re married?”

“ _Well_ —” Sorey began, looking as nonplussed as he did.

“Congratulations, then! When’s the baby due?”

“Oh! Um, thank… you?” The Shepherd paused and frowned, head angled in confusion. “Wait, what baby?”

“ _WHAT_ team?” Scar-face roared, glowering angrily at the one-eyed youth for derailing the conversation. He stared past the trio, his eyes searching before he spotted four furry creatures glaring up at him from where they stood clustered around Sorey’s heels. He snorted. “What, you mean these wild _cats_? Seriously?”

“ _Well, you guys do still have Dezel,”_ Zaveid murmured to no one in particular _, “who fortunately isn’t a cat—_ ”

“We’re wasting time like this,” Dezel snarled, his patience finally snapping. “Sorey, armatize with me!”

“Huh? But we don’t really need to...”

“We’ll go easy on them—don’t look at me like that; I swear, nothing too brutal. Come on! Or are you just going to dawdle and let the witch get away again?”

Sorey considered his options, exchanged a quick glance with Lailah and then nodded at his wind seraph.

“All right, let’s go. _Lukeim Yurlin!_ ”

Clad now in a raiment of white, embellished gold and green, Sorey leapt to the sky. With a twist of his body, he conjured up a blast of wind to sweep over the bandits, effectively stunning them and knocking them off their feet.

 

* * *

  **~.*.~  
  
****v.**

**  
** The sun was already hanging low in the dim orange sky by the time they had put enough distance between themselves and the bandits.

“Is it really all right to leave them as they are?” Sorey asked, his expression set in worry and a touch of guilt. “Those men were only acting viciously because they’d been mesmerized—shouldn’t we try to break the witch’s spell first? They might cause trouble for the other villagers too.”

“ _It seems they were only mesmerized to fight and stall us specifically. If that were the case, then I doubt they would cause any real harm to anyone else_.” Edna yawned languidly, flashing a pink tongue over razor-sharp teeth. Now that she was stuck as a kitten, she (and to an extent, Mikleo, even though he loathed to admit it aloud) had trouble keeping up with the humans’ wider strides. So she’d decided it was easier to hitch a ride instead—with a smug grin at her intended victim and three easy leaps, she had settled herself comfortably on top of Dezel’s hat. The wind seraph had protested vehemently at first, but made no real attempt to remove her.

“ _Edna’s right_ ,” Lailah said. _“And the sooner we get to the witch’s domain, the sooner we can stop him and break his spell, both the ones he’d casted on the bandits and us._ ”

The party trudged on, guided by Lailah as she scented the air for signs of the witch’s domain she had felt earlier. She couldn’t find any lingering trace however, even after they had scouted around for an hour.

“I apologize, Shepherd Sorey, Milady Rose,” Sergei said at length, bowing deeply to the pair. “But I’m unable to continue any further with you. I’m needed to supervise the patrol at the south eastern borders outside of Caladan tonight. I hope you will not begrudge my leave and I pray your quest still goes well.”

“Hey, it’s no biggie, Captain!” Rose said cheerfully. “Duty calls, after all. Just leave the witch-hunting to us. We’ll take care of it in no time.”

Once Sergei had taken his leave, the party continued their search. The hustle and bustle of the day soon faded; the villagers were slowly retreating into their homes for the night. Sorey pressed forward, however, not ready to give up just yet. They ventured away from the village centre and out to a clearing near the wooded area. The path was barren, with weeds peeking out under a stone slab or two.

And just beyond them was what looked to be a large, abandoned house. Glass shards and broken wood littered the front porch where the windows had been smashed in and there was a gaping hole in the roof.

“Okay, no, no, nope,” Rose declared flatly, digging her heels firmly into the ground. “There is _no_ hecking way am I stepping anywhere near that building.”

Sorey swallowed, dread nestling within his gut. But there was another familiar sensation there as well—an unsettling weight pressed painfully against his chest.

“I can sense malevolence seeping out from within.” He studied the dusty path before them again and pointed. “Look, there are footsteps leading inside; that may be where the witch is hiding out.”

Rose wrapped her arms around herself and visibly shuddered. "Are you kidding me? This is a legit set-up for the _worst_ possible scenario. Dark ominous clouds ahead? Check. Full moon hanging right above us? Check. Bats screeching to the backdrop of eerie canine howling in the distance _and_ my hair standing on end? Check, check, and _check._ "

Lailah bounded up to Rose’s shoulder, brushing against her face gently in reassurance. “ _It’s likely there are only hellions lurking inside. This domain isn’t immensely strong, which might explain why this atmosphere feels more like the frightening sort that humans would associate with haunted buildings._ ”

“ _Or it could, you know, just actually be ghosts too,_ ” Edna added unhelpfully.  
  
“S-So ghosts _are_ real?!!”

Mikleo stared reproachfully at the calico kitten. “ _Stop scaring Rose already; it's not helping at all._ ” He ignored Edna’s smirk as she stuck a petulant tongue out at him, and turned towards the Squire instead. “ _Think of it this way, Rose: the sooner we purify the witch hiding inside, the faster we can break the spell and turn things back to normal. And if any… uh, paranormal monster attacks, just... well, just get stabby like you always do. We may be cats now, but you can still count on us to back you and Sorey up—we promise._ ”

“Okay, fine. Now you're speaking my kind of language!” Rose gave a weak but relieved laugh, even as she kept her daggers within easy reach. “I-I can roll with that, yeah! All right, let's go kick some hellion butts.”

The gloom within the house was far more daunting once they’d entered. Rose paled for a moment but pressed on, jaw set in grim determination. She and Sorey flanked each other, with Mikleo balanced on Sorey’s shoulder and Lailah on Rose’s. Dezel kept close behind them, while Edna and Zaveid took point and led the way as they moved cautiously down the dark hallways and past empty rooms.

It wasn’t long before they encountered the first wave of hellions _—_ dusk bats and dirt leeches—which they easily made short work of. Sorey had purified the last bat when there was a scuffling noise ahead, the sound of scrambling footsteps.

“Over there!” Dezel growled, swinging his pendulums out towards the sound. Lailah conjured up a ball of flame to illuminate the way and they caught sight of a huddled form crouched in the shadows. The figure—the same boy they had cornered earlier that day— glared at them from under his hooded cloak, his eyes the icy-blue of frost and winter gale. He clasped his palms together, murmuring a string of spells.

“ _Ncewmevb Boks!”_

Abruptly, Lailah’s conjured flame flickered and fizzled out, and the party was plunged into complete darkness. There was spine-chilling rush of wind, the disembodied whisper of a voice right beside Rose’s ear and _—_

"GYEEAAH!!" Rose shrieked, jabbing her fists forward on instinct. She felt her punch connect with something furry at the same time as she elbowed someone else in the gut beside her.  
  
“ _Yeoowwch—!_ ”  
_  
_ “—Hyeargh!”

Both Dezel and Zaveid grunted in pain just as Lailah quickly conjured another ball of flame.  
  
“Brace yourselves, everyone!” Sorey warned, raising his sword to counter another rush of attack _—_ only to glance down in surprise at what looked to be a demonic porcelain tea set lunging towards him. A tea cup flung itself forward, smashing and breaking pathetically against his chest while he batted his sword at a screeching teapot hell-bent on scalding him with boiling-hot liquid.

" _What are these things?_ " Mikleo hissed, swiping his claws at a particularly stubborn tray with a fanged maw. “ _Lailah, are these even hellions?!_ ”

Beside him, Edna only let out a resigned sigh, and very casually dodged a set of dinner knives flying her way. " _Well, they sure are a pathetic excuse of a hellion, if that’s the case.”_  
  
“ _Oh dear_ ,” the Prime Lord mused, seemingly unperturbed by the possessed crockery assailing them now. An oversized cauldron hovered before her, threatening to ooze a sickly purple mess over its brim. “ _It has just been a series of CAT-astrophic incidents, hasn’t it? And now with KIT-chenware too!_ ”

A collective groan sounded from her companions, but Lailah only giggled, a glimmer in her eyes. “ _Nothing a little spring-cleaning can’t fix!_ ” She sidestepped the cauldron and released a burst of fiery spheres back at the marauding utensils.

“ _Ugh_ , this is even freakier than those floating bison heads!” Rose whined, whirling as she and Zaveid parried blows from a giant, spiked rolling pin trying to flatten them all like dough while Dezel wrangled it down with his pendulums.

“ _This is getting ridiculous!_ ” Mikleo yowled, avoiding the snapping jaws of a deranged goblet before it crashed into the wall. He was backed into the corner and hadn’t noticed the figure hidden in the shadows...

“Mikleo, look out!” Sorey leapt ahead, pushing the silver kitten to safety just as the witch moved. There was a blinding flash—they dodged swiftly, the force of the witch’s arte only grazing Sorey’s shoulder. The blaze of magic rebounded off a pillar in a wild arc and struck the rafters above them instead. The crumbling wood would have crushed the witch then—who stood rooted in fear as he stared upwards—but Sorey was already lunging forward again, twisting his body to shield the boy from the falling debris, before a number of stray pieces caught him sharply by the back of the head.

He gasped as white-hot pain shot down his spine and crumpled to the ground, unconscious.

 

* * *

  **~.*.~  
  
****vi.**

His head was still throbbing when Sorey finally came to, the edges of his vision slowly coalescing into focus. Mikleo and Lailah—still bewhiskered and feline—were peering over him anxiously, sparks of healing artes trailing from their stretched paws over him.

“Look, it’s not _my_ fault he got knocked out,” a child’s voice said from a little way off. “What kind of Shepherd is he anyway, keeling over so easily?”

“You dropped practically half a ceiling on him!” Rose countered hotly.

“ _Two wooden planks and half a brick, actually,_ ” Zaveid corrected, only to falter when Rose shot a dark look his way.

“Is everyone okay? O-ow...” Sorey winced as he sat up, carefully rubbing the sore bump at the back of his head. “What’s going on with Rose and the others?”

“ _We’re fine_ ,” Mikleo assured him, before heaving a sigh. “ _Still stuck as cats though, as you can see_.”

“ _And it seems that we have mistaken this source to be malevolence from the witch, but… Perhaps you can explain it better, Almanakh,_ ” Lailah nodded at the small blue normin who had approached them.

“I owe you some thanks, Shepherd,” the normin said as she bowed stiffly, “for protecting Atreides earlier. But all the same, you ought to stop bullying him too. Hmph.”

“Bullying him? _Your_ little witch boy is the one causing havoc around the village!” Dezel growled tersely.

“Atreides might be a handful at times, but he’s still only a child,” Almanakh continued. “One doesn’t have many companions when living on the streets; he was abandoned by the orphanage who’d housed him as a toddler for possessing ‘the Sight’ and was shunned by other street urchins as well. He himself did not understand at first why other humans couldn’t see us, the spiritual beings that periodically crossed paths with them.”

“So he has the resonance to perceive the seraphim too,” Sorey mused. “Did you also form a pact with him? That’s why he’s able to cast spells and artes, right?”

“Hey, don’t pick on Almanakh,” Atreides abruptly cut in. Sorey turned, meeting the haughty gaze of the raven-haired boy; he did not sense any trace of malevolence in the child.

Atreides fingered the hem of his cloak nervously, but still jutted his chin out in slight defiance. “Almanakh’s the only one who was willing to teach me things whenever I asked. I’m not so illiterate either that I can’t pick up a thing or two about magic from the books she’d stole—um, shown me.” He paused, his lips curved into the tiniest of smirks as he crouched to pinch at the normin’s cheek. “And you stuck around because you actually like me, don’t you, Almanakh? Can’t blame you—I am rather charming for a street-urchin.”

Almanakh shrugged, swatting her paws at Atreides’ casual prodding. “Nonsense. I just really like meat-pies and you’re great at stealing them. Ours is simply a bond of mutual convenience.”

“Mutual convenience, right.” Rose shook her head, before grinning back at Sorey and the others. “Not so different from your standard friendship then. In all seriousness though, can you please remove the spells you’d put on _my_ friends and on those people you’d mesmerized?”

“Why the bandits though?” Atreides said breezily. “If they’re mesmerized forever trying to fight you all, that’ll keep them from preying on innocents.”

“...And what kind of rationale is _that_?! Mind-control without permission isn’t any better!”

“Atreides,” Almanakh admonished. “Remember, favours should always be returned for karmic luck.”

The raven-haired boy grimaced, puffing his cheeks out but didn’t protest. He turned to Sorey again, staring owlishly at the Shepherd for a moment, and asked, “Why did you protect me when the arte rebounded? I turned your seraphim into cats, and the villagers have already branded me a witch. I’m one of the ‘bad guys’, after all.”

Sorey brushed the side of his jaw with a finger as he considered his words. “To be honest, I’m not too sure myself. But you had looked terrified when the rafters collapsed. You’re just a kid, like Almanakh said, so I couldn’t just stand by and watch.”

“You could’ve easily stopped me and broken the spell if you had let the debris hit me.”

“Maybe. But even so, I didn’t want to judge you based on rumours alone—I wanted to hear your side of the story too.” Sorey offered the boy a sheepish grin. “And in the end, we still managed to stop you this way too.”

Atreides frowned, ice-blue eyes still narrowed suspiciously. “...You really are a strange person, you know?”

“Er—” Sorey began, but Atreides’ lips were pulled into a wry half-smile now. He held a hand out, helping the injured Shepherd climb shakily back to his feet.

“My skills in transmutation and mind-charming artes are rudimentary at best; the effect usually wears off in a day or two. As such, your seraphim should return to their usual forms by sundown tomorrow and the bandits back to whatever it is that bandits do during their spare time when they aren’t terrorizing wayward travellers.”

“And the hellions here?” Rose asked, glancing warily around them.

“Merely illusions that I had conjured to fool the senses—the demonic kitchenware, the malevolence. This is just your regular abandoned house with regular ghosts, I suppose.”

“S-so ghosts **_are_** real then?!”

“ _This chit-chat’s been nice and all_ ,” Edna cleared her throat suddenly, her expression flat and signalling extreme boredom. “ _But what are we going to do about the boy? Do we just let him be as he is? He’s not corrupted by malevolence now, but life on the streets is tough and he_ has _been troubling many of the villagers_.”

“ _Even if you guys don’t do anything, the esteemed Captain of the Platinum Knights might someday be forced to,_ ” Zaveid added.

“A kid’s got to eat,” Atreides said defensively. “And it’s easier to steal using artes.”

Sorey sighed, feeling a sudden twinge of sadness at a fleeting memory of a girl and her dog; at how sometimes resonance could easily be as much a burden of loneliness as a gift of camaraderie. Edna and Zaveid were right of course, but Atreides had a point too. “It’s true we can’t just leave him like this, but Atreides has only been trying to survive living on his own too...”

“Oh, that’s right!” Rose chimed, hitting her fist into her palm, blue eyes bright with an idea. “All right, leave this to me—I know exactly who can help.” She grinned widely at the boy. “You guys like money, don’t you?”

Atreides exchanged a glance with his normin, brows quirked questioningly. “I’d like to feel rich sometimes, yes.”

 

* * *

  **~.*.~  
  
****vii.**

“ _I have to say, Rose, you really do come up with some of the best solutions,_ ” Lailah said, seated comfortably around Rose’s shoulders.

They had visited Coram the blacksmith in his forge first thing in the morning. After some convincing and the promise of free batches of the Sparrowfeathers’ mabo curry buns, Coram agreed to take Atreides under his wing as an apprentice.

“He’ll never admit it, but ever since Coram’s lost his Emery to the sickness all those years, he’s been a little lonesome.” Rose explained, slowly making her way up the steps to the inn room they’d booked for the day. “So I thought having Atreides around as his apprentice might help with that. It’s not exactly a get-rich-quick scheme, but Atreides will at least have a place to stay. And if he’s serious about making a change, Coram’s willing to help with Atreides’ education too.”

“ _All in all, a happy ending,”_ Lailah purred _. “Let’s hope things will work out well for both of them._ ”

“I wonder if Sorey’s feeling better,” Rose said, carefully pushing the door open to peek inside their room.

The soft wooden creak stirred Sorey from his sleep, and he blinked, turning towards the sound.  
  
“Is that you, Rose, Lailah? How did everything go?” he said, yawning. His head was wrapped in bandages but it didn’t ache as much as it had before. Dezel was standing by the window, gazing at the scenery outside, but the other seraphim—still in their cat forms—had curled up around their Shepherd, dozing lightly: Mikleo was curled into a ball over Sorey’s chest, his long, silvery tail covering his nose, while Edna had draped herself comfortably on Sorey’s pillow just above his head; Zaveid was all stretched out on his side and snoring noisily over Sorey’s knees.

It was a sight enough to draw soft laughter from Rose. She shook her head when Sorey made to move slightly, as though to offer her the bed instead.

“I’ll be fine here, really,” she said, settling into the couch by the bed. It was a bit dusty,  but she’d rested on harder surfaces before while on Scattered Bones missions. “And yup, things are all settled between Coram and Atreides, so we’ll just hope for the best. We’ve done all we could, after all. So don’t worry! You just rest that head of yours and we can be back on our way searching for more of those shiny orb thingamajiggies.”

Sorey laughed, green eyes bright despite the fatigue lining his face. “Thank you, Rose. I honestly don’t know what I’d do without you sometimes. I’m grateful to have all of you with me.” He turned towards the dozing cats sharing his bed, lifting a hand to brush gentle fingers through Mikleo’s soft fur.

Rose only snorted, rubbing a knuckle playfully against Sorey’s cheek. “Likewise! I’m glad I have you guys around too,” she said, beaming first at Lailah’s bashful smile and then at Dezel, who merely grunted, his back still turned as he resolutely kept his gaze out the window. She yawned then, exhaustion finally catching up to her, and stretched back against the couch for some much needed rest.

“The Shepherd taking down a witch and berserk kitchenware with only a Squire and an army of seraphic cats,” she murmured with a sleepy grin. “Now _that’s_ a side to the legend you don’t hear about every day.”

 

**—End—**

 

**Author's Note:**

> \- _Ncewmevb Boks_ : “Whirling Gust” in Ancient Tongue, an arte that sends a strong rush of wind in circles. It forms spiralling wind blades that can injure foe, but Atreides being young and untrained, is still unable to control and fully utilize it yet.
> 
> \- Listen, all the side-quests involving kids in the game left me emotionally compromised, okay. Let me have ONE silly, cracktastic side-quest with a kid who got a happier ending at least aghdjjhsdkg.
> 
> \- Thanks for reading and #sorey not sorey for the crack/bad puns. ~~I GET WEIRD IDEAS IN THE SHOWER.~~


End file.
